Bastard Out of Pegasus
by melraemorgan
Summary: Rodney has changed and not for the better. Earth needs him but he won't come. His Atlantis family have all but given up on him, he's wanted by the FBI, the CIA, and the US military. This is the revised version.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I am a huge Rodney fan and this weird idea has been rattling around in my head for days. The muse would not let me go. I tried to get away but she is a tenacious sprite and refused my pleas to allow me to complete my other stories first. So here it is, hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Oh how I wish it were mine.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

* * *

Rodney McKay was a mean son of a bitch. His tongue was as bad as his fists, and he could kick your ass and make you feel like you deserved it. The fact he was a drunk and an addict, did nothing to help his moods.

He wasn't always like this he used to have purpose and meaning in his life, but now he was just a bitter, and lonely man.

Rodney used to be special; he was brilliant and had an amazing life living in a different galaxy. What more could an astrophysicist ask for. But something happened to change all of that, something that was the final straw for this man.

His childhood had sucked but whose hasn't? Okay it was worse than that…Rodney had the shit beat out of him on a daily basis, and would often go days without food locked in his room for what were the barest of infractions. Such things like failing to take the trash out in what was considered a timely manner, or having to be reminded to do his chores, would earn him a whipping and two or three days in lock up.

However, that wasn't what brought him to this place, though it did represent the beginning of the journey.

"You wanna tell me now? Or should I keep punching you?"

"I—swear Doc I have no idea where it is."

"Let's say I believe you, I'm sure you know who does, don't you?"

The battered man before him shook in fear of the man with the piercing blue eyes. He had to make a choice, would he give his tormentor what he wanted and risk the wrath of the person he was ratting on? Or hold out and see just how far the menacing man, that was beating the hell out of him, was willing to go?

"It was Paco, he's the one that stole the heroin."

_Please don't kill me… God if you get me out of this I swear I will quit dealing and go to rehab._

There was an evil glint in Mc Kay's eye. He was deciding what to do with this weasel. He got a thrill at picturing his hands around the little rat's throat, but chose to let him live because ultimately it would be less hassle. Dead bodies are bitch to get rid of and thanks to modern forensics crime scenes are virtually impossible to clean well enough. So the greasy loser got to live out of convenience.

"Alright Flacco you can go for now, but you better be where I can find you."

"Th—thanks Doc."

"Get your greasy ass outta here before I change my mind."

The man scurried out like the rodent he was.

Rodney turned to his right hand man, Bulldog.

"I want you to find Paco and bring him to me…unharmed. I want to enjoy explaining to him my displeasure."

"Okay boss will do. Shouldn't take long, last I heard he was holed up in an empty warehouse near the highway."

_An empty warehouse? How cliché… God these morons bore the hell outta me._

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you will. Now quit yakking and go already."

"Oh and your ass better get my heroin back as well."

"Sure thing boss."

The hulking mass of muscle walked quickly out. Rodney's hands were shaking and a fine sheen of sweat made his face slick. He needed a hit.

He pulled out the beautifully carved Athosian box that had been a birthday gift from Teyla. Inside were several baggies of various drugs, cocaine, heroin, ecstasy, meth, and even some oxy. You name it he used it, and sold it.

The box was a constant reminder of what he had lost, the drugs inside the box, a profane symbol of how far he had fallen.

He picked up his vodka tonic and downed the rest of it, wincing at his swollen and abraded knuckles.

_I really should let Bulldog handle that. I'm getting to old for that shit. After all what's the point of henchmen if they can't beat the crap out of people for you? That is their primary purpose.  
_

Rodney sank into his desk chair opened his box of goodies and brought his spoon and lighter out. He cooked up the heroin and sucked the golden fluid into a new syringe. Then he put the tourniquet around his bicep and smacked his veins, watching them plump up. He only now began using his arms again, so they were still good.

Rodney shivered in anticipation of the bliss to come, of the cessation of his aching need. He laid his elbow on the arm of the chair and with something akin to reverence, injected the high-grade heroin into his trembling body. He knew right away he had screwed up and taken too much, this heroin was dangerously pure, and required a delicate touch in dosing. He soon forgot his overdose because he was slipping away into warm clouds of nothingness.

_Whatever…_ Was his last thought before he sank into unconsciousness.

Rodney McKay didn't care if he died and that was part of what made him a dangerous man, both to himself and others.

* * *

John Sheppard was on a quest. He was on a quest to find Rodney McKay, to save him from his self-destruction. He'd hired private eyes to aid him in his search, but it was the military and the intelligence agencies that were interested in finding his friend and locking him up forever. Rodney knew too much and was too volatile, making him a huge security risk. They had to find him dead or alive. John needed to get there first, had to beat them to Rodney and keep him from ending up dead.

John found himself hitting brick wall after brick wall. How do you find a genius who can write code in his sleep if he doesn't want you to? One of the PI's told him there was rumors of a man fitting McKay's description that was a notorious drug dealer in LA. But John couldn't believe that, so he cast the information aside as being preposterous. Several weeks later he would get more information that made him begin to consider the hideous possibility that his brilliant, astrophysicist best friend, was indeed a drug dealer…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's chapter two already isn't that nice of me?

Disclaimer: I own SGA … _In my dreams_.

All comments welcome

* * *

The airport was packed and the air conditioning was having a hard time keeping up, it was a scorching hot day in Southern California and John began to sweat in the press of bodies around the luggage carousel. It made him anxious all these people so close to him. He couldn't do a threat assessment, couldn't prepare for an attack. John found it difficult to shut off his Pegasus galaxy induced paranoia, and it caused him to retreat from the world. Venturing out like this was taking its toll on him and he could feel the adrenalin coursing through his veins.

_Shit not here. Not now… I gotta get the hell out of here._

John was starting to panic when he spotted his bag coming slowly towards him. He ran to meet it pushing his way through the crowd almost wanting someone to start a fight, so he could get rid of his nerves on that someone's face. No one took offense to his aggressive reach for his bag, and he ran like hell out of the airport to the Taxi line and grabbed a cab.

"Where too mister?"

The driver was a Sikh and john found his use of the vernacular amusing.

"Umm take me to the Beverly Hills Hotel."

It was the first thing he thought of, and he knew it was an outrageously expensive hotel. It didn't matter John was a billionaire, he inherited his father's money and company after his brother died in a car accident. As sad, as it was to lose his brother the inheritance came just when he needed it. Atlantis was on Earth and he didn't have anything to do anymore so he retired just in time to be thrust into the job of running the company. He found he was actually a very good CEO it suited him and he was very successful. In the five years he was running the company he went from having hundreds of millions of dollars to billions.

The cab pulled up to the hotel and the cabbie got his bag from the trunk. John paid the hefty bill, gave him a hefty tip, and strolled into the hotel. He was immediately bathed in an arctic blast that made the sweat evaporate so quickly he began shivering. Walking up to the front desk he was greeted by a nice, good looking and obviously gay man, who let his eyes take their time roaming all over John's body whenever he thought John wasn't looking.

"I wanted to check in and reserve a bungalow indefinitely. Do you have anything available?"

The young man looked at John skeptically. John could practically hear what he was thinking. John wasn't dressed well, and had only one beat up suitcase he sure didn't look like he belonged at the Beverly.

"Sir, do you realize that our rooms start at $1300.00 per night, and our bungalows are three times that?"

"That's fine (he squinted at the name tag)… _Thomas._ I'll need it for at least two weeks and possibly more. Can you accommodate me or shall I go to the Ritz?"

John was tired and getting pissed.

Just then the manager walked up. An urbane man with an air of intelligence and competence he asked in a hushed tone, "Is there a problem sir?"

"There seems to be. Thomas here taking after his namesake doubts my ability to pay for a bungalow."

The older man gave Thomas a scathing look and turned back to the travel worn man before him.

"Well Mr.—"

"Sheppard, John Sheppard."

The man paled visibly as he suddenly realized who John was, but he knew better than to fawn all over John. Thomas had already irritated the billionaire and the manager was experienced enough with John's category of rich to know that any ass kissing behavior at this point would only make matters worse.

"Yes , well Mr. Sheppard welcome to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. My name is Raymond Carmichael I am the Hotel manager."

"Listen Ray you seem like a nice guy but I am tired I have been on a plane for twelve hours with a three hour layover in Dallas. So you could say I am in no mood for playing around. I want a bungalow for at least two weeks and if you don't have me in one in ten minutes I am leaving and taking my _business _elsewhere."

In this economy, Carmichael really could not afford to lose the money the billionaire would bring in, and he began checking John in.

"Thomas take Mr. Sheppard to his bungalow so he can rest, I will handle his check in personally and he can pay at his convenience."

Though he still had no clue who John was he was no fool and could see that he was rich, so he came around the desk and looked at John nervously and said, "I am so sorry if I offended you, I do hope you will forgive my behavior and not let it reflect on the hotel."

John smiled and replied, "No problem Thomas but you may want to remember never judge a book etcetera."

"Thank you sir, let me take your bag and show you to your bungalow."

They walked out to the beautiful lush landscaped and meandering paths that led to the bungalows. It was peaceful and secluded just what John needed. They rounded the bend and came to a bungalow set a bit apart. Thomas opened the door and brought John in.

"This is your key Mr. Sheppard. If there's anything you need do not hesitate to ask. I will be here all night happy to help in any way I can. Oh that reminds me, will you be needing the concierge?"

"Not tonight Thomas, thank you."

He gave the kid the full wattage Sheppard crooked grin and watched the boy melt. _Still got it Sheppard._

"Well good night sir."

John watched the young man leave a bit flustered and it made him smile again.

He went straight to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. It was opulent with multiple sprayers. The heat soothed his aching muscles, after the grueling trip his old injuries began to throb and hot water took the edge off.

The plan was to order room service and go to bed but a knock on the door was about to change that.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em but will play with them relentlessly.

Come on and burn me. I _like _it! But that's a story for another day.

* * *

Bulldog came back to tell Rodney Paco had been arrested and the entire million dollar heroin stash was confiscated. He wasn't looking forward to telling his mercurial boss the bad news. He was only gone about an hour but when he unlocked the door and walked in to find his boss passed out, he worried an hour had been too long.

"Ah hell boss what'd go and do now?"

He ran over to see if he was breathing. Rodney was breathing but it was slow and irregular. Bulldog knew he needed a doctor but his boss wouldn't go to a hospital, he didn't know what to do.

_Ah …fuck it. I'm not going to sit here on my ass all in a tizzie. I have to do something and do it fast!_

Bulldog removed hi boss' wallet and anything that could identify who Doc was. Then he picked up thin and wiry man, ran him out to the Escalade, and drove him to the hospital. Doc would just have to be pissed; Bulldog wasn't going to let him die.

He rushed him to Cedars Sinai it was the closest. It was a high roller's hospital but it didn't matter to Bulldog, and it sure as hell wouldn't matter to Doc.

Bulldog parked in the ambulance bay, pulled the now gasping form of his boss out of the back of the SUV, and left the vehicle running. He walked through the sliding glass doors into the ER and began yelling.

"Hey, somebody help! He aint breathin!"

A nurse and a doctor came running over.

"Bring him over to the bed."

Bulldog rushed Rodney to the nearest bed and laid him down.

"What happened?"

Bulldog hesitated.

"Come on man what did he take?"The young doctor urged.

"I think it was heroin." The big man said quietly.

"Okay buddy get out of our way."

The tiny room filled with frenzied activity.

"Crap no pulse, I need a crash cart!"

Bulldog slipped away and back to his running SUV and got the hell out of Dodge.

* * *

_Dammit that better not be that kid again!_

John sighed and went to the door.

"Who is it?"

"Open the door Colonel Sheppard."

_What the hell?_

" 'Fraid you got the wrong guy, sorry."

"Colonel I have just beamed down from Prometheus where we were tracking you via your subcutaneous transmitter."

_What the hell do they want?_

"Yeah well whatever Captain Kirk, I don't know who you are and I am not g—What the FUCK!"

John heard the Asgaard beam depositing someone behind him.

"Hello John, long time no see."

There stood Samantha Carter.

"What the hell Sam? I mean seriously."

"Well I did knock first."

_I bet this has something to do with Rodney._

He was standing there with nothing on but a robe, he could feel her eyes on him.

"Let me get dressed, make yourself comfortable."

"That won't be hard. This place is amazing." She looked around at the sumptuous living room in awe.

"Yeah well, being a billionaire has its perks." He called from the bedroom.

"I see that."

John came out in a pair of Levi's and an orange L'Acoste polo.

"Wow you look …weird." Sam exclaimed.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm just used to seeing you in black t-shirts and BDU's."

"I could say the same to you. Your wearing jeans too."

"Yes well I have to blend in with the locals."

There was a pause.

"Sam it's been five years. Can we just cut to the chase? Go ahead and tell me why you are in my bungalow."

"Ooooh _my_ _bungalow_." She teased.

John smiled in spite of himself.

"Cut it out Carter. I'm just a poor little rich boy and I have delicate feelings." He snarked back at her.

They were quiet again.

" Do you have anything to drink?"

"I'm sure there's something in the fridge, help yourself."

"You want me to drink what's in the mini bar? You _are _rich."

"Can we quit messing around and spit it out."

She pulled out a Coke Zero out and poured it in a glass.

"This is my favorite, made even better because it cost six dollars."

John growled in frustration.

"Carter if you have something to say hurry up and say it, because I am going to bed in five minutes whether you're finished or not."

Sam was stalling she knew John wasn't going to like this, and would be probably be difficult about the whole thing.

"Carter you now have three minutes."

She sighed, and steeled herself.

"Okay we have a serious problem, we've heard on our long range sensors some chatter suggesting there is a super hive headed for Earth."

John's knees buckled and he sat down on the couch.

"Are you sure?"

"About as sure as I can be…With so little information to go on we can't be definitive."

"Well what do you want _me _to do about it?"

"John your country needs you."

"Sam I am too old, and too beat up to go on missions."

"Actually there's a way around that."

John looked at her skeptically.

"You are not putting a snake in my head!"

She smiled wistfully at how like Jack he was.

_I wish you were still here Jack I miss you every day._

John noticed the sadness that ran across her face.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you sad?"

"I guess you don't know. Jack died, two years ago."

He felt himself getting choked up.

_Oh damn. That sucks. He was such a great guy. Hell, he was my hero._

"You don't know how sorry I am to hear that… How did it happen?"

"He had a massive heart attack shoveling snow from the driveway of the cabin. He was alone, I hadn't arrived yet, my flight from DC was delayed because of the weather. I found him."

"Oh God Sam I am so sorry… Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Her stomach was in knots, they had to get through this briefing she couldn't afford the distraction of her grief.

John felt the sadness coming from her but knew they had to move on.

"We can talk about it some other time, if you want."

"Thank you John, I appreciate that. Now let's talk about the Wraith."

"Sam if you don't mind I have been on a plane all day, I am exhausted and starving. Frankly it sounds like a lot of my missions, anyway since I am not currently being chased by the natives, I intend to feed myself very well. You are free to join me but I am not doing anything until I eat."

"Okay you have a point, and I am hungry too, we can talk while we eat."

"Great, room service it is."

As John ordered their outrageously expensive meal Sam sat considering whether she should tell him about Rodney. It had been a long time and everyone's life had changed a lot. She would have to tell him eventually anyway, but Sam wasn't sure she liked the idea of trading on John's feelings.

_If it were Daniel I would want to know. I guess I'll play it by ear._

She heard him hang up the phone.

"Hey you want a beer?"

A beer and the steak and potatoes that John ordered sounded heavenly, she was sick of MRE's and all that damn soy protein.

"Yes please."

He brought her the Killian's and sat down.

"You want to get started now or wait till we eat?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On how the subject will affect your appetite."

_Great, I knew this was about Rodney._

Sam could tell he knew what she was going to want to talk about.

"We can wait."

"No, let's get it over with. I'm tired as hell and don't know how much longer I can stay awake."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not MINE.

Is anyone out there?

################################################### 

While Sam and John were discussing him, Rodney lay in the hospital as a John Doe, beginning to wake up.

He heard the all too familiar sounds of modern medicine all around him. The muted bustle of the hospital seeped through the blackness and was about to become fully conscious.

The noises of someone taking his vitals pushed the last of the darkness away and he groaned.

"Carson? What happened?"

"Sir? I am your nurse, Mindy. You are in the hospital."

Her voice rudely jolted him out of what was a memory of his old life.

"Why the hell am I here?"

His nasty tone scared her. He was a frightening guy. He was all lean muscle and covered with scars, the man looked like he was right out of a prison movie.

"You o—overdosed, on heroin." She was openly afraid her sweet young face could not hide her emotion.

Rodney felt a slight twinge of regret for scaring the child.

"Hey, Mindy right? I'm sorry for being such an ass, but I have no idea how I got here and I'm a little freaked out."

She breathed a sigh of relief and beamed her best cheerleader smile at him.

"That's okay, I understand. How are you feeling?"

He hadn't taken the time to notice, but it hit him like a tidal wave all at once and the color drained from his face.

"I think I'm going to be sick." And he was, he puked for ten minutes straight. He was going through withdrawal.

When he got a reprieve from vomiting he asked Mindy, "How long have I been here?"

"Oh you came in to the ER about five hours ago. You were lucky they had a bed up here for you, otherwise you'd still be laying on one of those God awful ER beds."

Just as she finished wiping the sweat from his face with a damp washcloth, a doctor about his age strode in, and motioned for her to leave the room.

"Glad to see you're awake, though I imagine you're feeling like crap."

"Your powers of observation astound me doctor." His tone was classic McKay sarcastic.

The man laughed, "Yeah well I'm sure you're wondering why you are already going through withdrawal."

"No, not really. I assume you gave me Narcan. Which by the way is fucking cruel."

"Be that as it may, Mr.—What is your name any way?"

"Kaiser Sozhey."

The doctor found himself laughing again. "Well _Kaiser_, the Narcan helped save your life, you were very close to death."

"So, we're all one heartbeat away from death."

_This guy is smart… slippery too. _

"As true as that is the thing that stopped your heart was an overdose of some very potent heroin, which makes me wonder just how far up the supply chain you are."

_Ahh Doc you are surprisingly astute._

"Why I have no idea what you mean. The last thing I remember was in the men's room of a leather bar."

"Kaiser as creative _and disturbing_ a scenario as that is, we both know you're at the least and addict, if not a dealer. Those track marks on your legs haven't quite faded yet, though I do admire your attempt to be cautious with your veins."

"I may be an addict but I am far from stupid. My addiction is as far as my idiocy goes."

"There is no doubt you are intelligent, and you obviously have no self delusions about your circumstances, so why are you still an addict? You certainly don't strike me as a weak man."

"That is none of your fucking business." He gripped his cramping stomach.

"I can sedate you through this if you like."

"No I _don't _like. I just want to get out of here."

"That's not going to be possible you are still too ill. You need to be here… Kaiser."

"Yeah whatever. Just go away and let me suffer in peace."

"Okay, but I need you to fill this form out for me. Though I'm sure you will lie, it's my ass if you don't."

"Leave it and I'll fill it out. Now get the hell out."

"Fine I will. By the way I am Dr. Stephens I am in charge of your case."

He shut the door and finally Rodney was alone. He did want to suffer in peace he couldn't allow anyone to see him be this weak.

He reached out to pick up the paperwork, and noticed something black on his fingertips.

"Shit! They fucking fingerprinted me." He began pulling all the leads and IV's off and looked around for his clothes.

_Dammit they have my clothes too!_ "Oh well fuck it, I'll just go in this."

He fought off the spinning sensation that was pulling him to the floor like a gravitational field and opened the door quietly.

There was a man in a suit sitting next to the door, with an ear bud in his ear. Fortunately the fed hadn't heard him opening the door, which gave Rodney the barest second to slide out and be down the hall before his guard turned his head. It was one of those strange moments when everything coalesces and goes as planned. He would later marvel at the serendipity for days.

He looked around everywhere for some kind of clothing that would cover his ass, when he found a linens cart with scrubs on it. They were pink but who cares, at least his junk wouldn't be flopping around in the breeze.

Somehow, he was able to remain on his rubber tread sock clad feet, and not draw attention to his strange get up. He was almost home free when in the elevator a seasoned nurse noticed his bleeding arm and knew that right away he was escaping.

"You may want to put some pressure on that." She eyed him suspiciously.

"Yeah thanks."

As soon as the doors opened, he walked quickly to the nearest exit and got as far away as possible.

He knew it was only a matter of time before they found him again, he needed Bulldog to help him get lost.

Rodney could feel the adrenalin fade from his body, he was left in withdrawal and running for his life somewhere near Beverly Hills. To make matters worse his blood sugar was plummeting. The familiar sensation of dizziness, of his arms and legs feeling like lead, and of not being able to think were combining with the tremors and nausea of withdrawal to make him crash, and crash hard. He had to get to a phone before he succumbed to his body.

It was fortunate that it was getting fully dark now; it would make hiding much easier. People were used to seeing weird shit in LA but, undoubtedly some busy body would notice him, make the call, and that would be it. They would have him back in their custody. He would die before he went back to the fucking _Stargate _program.

In the age of cell phones, finding a pay phone, especially in Beverly Hills was virtually impossible. But luck kept smiling on him and he happened upon the what must have been the last phone booth in Beverly Hills. He picked up the inordinately clean handset and dialed the house collect, willing Bulldog to pick up.

"Hello?"

The electronic voice asked Rodney his name and then played it back for Bulldog, who accepted the call with relief.

"Boss? You okay?"

"No you moron I am most definitely _not _okay. I don't have time to chew you a new one, but rest assured I will. Bring the box, a can of coke, and get me some clothes. I want you to meet me at the corner of Wilshire and South Doheny. I'll be sitting at the bus stop. You can't miss me I'm wearing pink."

"Sure thing Boss, I'll be there twenty minutes tops."

"Bulldog, hurry but don't get caught speeding."

"I understand Boss, you hang tight."

Rodney sighed and relaxed for a moment only to have a wave of nausea hit him. He began vomiting into a nearby trashcan. There was no one around, the nearby restaurant was closed for remodeling and all the shops had closed for the evening.

_Just gotta hang on a little longer. You can do it McKay._

He had a fleeting thought that John would be mortified to know he used his inner Sheppard to cheer himself on until his next hit of smack.

The heaving subsided and he crumpled down onto the bench, trying not to fall over. He sat trying to catch his breath, he started to relax, it was a fatal error. A black sedan pulled up its luxury suspension as quiet as a whisper. Rodney didn't hear it in time.

The sound of a door opening shook him out of his stupor; he jumped up to try to get away and promptly blacked out.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here's an update.

Disclaimer: ME NO OWN SGA! *cries*

Read it.

* * *

Someone was kicking him in the ribs, not the first time he'd been woken up that way. He groaned hoping they would stop if they knew he was awake. It didn't work. Whoever was kicking him they seemed to have a lot of experience. The brute was kicking just hard enough to bruise his ribs without breaking them.

_Military… this asshole is lucky I'm strung out or I'd spend some time introducing my boot to his ribs._

"Enough. Let's give our guest a moment to clear his head." A cold threatening voice spoke from the dark corner of the cell they were in.

Two apes dressed up in nondescript military jump suits yanked him by his arms and threw him into a standard issue folding chair.

"What do you apes want?"

Rodney's bravado was not false but perhaps a little ill conceived. It garnered him a powerful openhanded blow to the back of his head. Making his head spin again. He puked on bad guy number two's military issue boots. The guy was not pleased.

"Oh so sorry. Those are great boots I used to have a pair myself."

"So glad to see you still have the same mouth on you Dr. McKay."

"Whoever you are I think you realize I am a total bastard, addict, drug dealer. I have nothing to lose, there's not a damn thing I know that you need, and nothing you can do to me that hasn't been done before. So fuck off. I'm really not in the mood for this bullshit."

It worked, he goaded the man in the corner into revealing himself. A fist connected with his jaw and he was on the way to la la land again. He was aware long enough to whisper his assailants' name."

"Radek…"

* * *

"We need you John. There is no one else who can engage the stardrive on Atlantis, and that ship is the only thing that has any hope of destroying a super hive."

John was thinking, the tugging at his heart was distracting him. When he thought about Atlantis it gave him a trill of joy, and then he remembers Rodney, and all the others they lost. Remembered how much of himself died with the dream of his city.

"Not interested."

He was a liar he was very interested. His body yearned to feel the chair under around him. To feel Atlantis' sweet song, the song she sang for him, because no one else could hear it. It took him a year to get over her presence being ripped from his consciousness. As weird, as it sounds John loved Atlantis with all his heart. He couldn't go through that again.

Sam could see John was lying his ass off. It was evident he was having a hard time processing the request.

"What if I helped you find Rodney?"

His moss colored eyes bore into her, his face a mask that revealed nothing. She kept talking. "I know all about your search for him, I also know that he's not only a drug dealer, but a very successful one. He is often brutal to those who cross him and not above killing when it suits his purpose. The other fact you may not know, is that he is an alcoholic and a heroin addict." A tear slipped down her stony face. Saying the words were almost as bad as hearing them.

"I can't believe he's an addict. I knew about the drug dealing but I had no idea it was on that scale… It's like our Rodney is dead."

"John our Rodney _is _dead. He couldn't handle the way the government just cut you guys loose, broke up your family. The loss of Atlantis was very traumatic for both of you, but as you know that's not when he became this Rodney, or _Doc_ as he's called now."

John felt a pang in his chest this was opening doors he spent the last several years shutting. He couldn't allow himself to keep feeling, to keep remembering, or his carefully constructed house of cards would fall flat.

"I know when he and Jennifer were taken by the Trust they tortured him by torturing her, and he never cracked. He kept waiting for the cavalry Sam; he kept believing that we don't leave people behind. I read the file I know what they went through. I know how they forced him to watch every vile thing they did to his wife, until she begged him to tell them what they wanted to know. He told her 'hang on sweetheart they're coming for us.'

He still trusted that our guys would save them. That Jennifer and he would survive and be rescued, he kept on believing right up until the captors asked Rodney for the replicator code one more time and he refused again. I know, they tied Rodney to a chair and forced him to watch as they beat Jennifer to death with a baseball bat. He begged them to stop, asked them to kill him instead, those bastards laughed. They fucking _laughed. _I know they made sure he could feel her blood spattering him as they beat her.

When help finally came, he was past caring and his grief soon turned to rage and bitterness. He walked away from the SGC, cut out his transmitter and lost himself. I know he found out who they were and hunted them down and killed every last one. Some of them had serious security, Pegasus taught Rodney well (_I taught him well.)_ and he took her lessons and became the evil bastard he is today. And do you know what? I would have done the same fucking thing. What I _know _is that he died with Jennifer. Sam, Rodney _is_ dead."

"How do you know all those details? Rodney's debriefing notes were classified."

"Jack gave them to me."

A thick wall of silence had descended between them.

"Jack shouldn't have done that, but then again neither one of you are big into following the rules."

"He understood, he knew I had to know."

"When did he give them to you?"

"After they put Rodney on the most wanted list for killing those bastards."

Sam looked at him trying to get him to see _she _ understood too.

"Look, we tried to quash the investigation, but Rodney practically sent a taped confession he did it. Like he didn't care if he was caught. Then we tried to find him and get him to come back to us where we could hide him off world. He found out somehow, hacked the SGC computers, and wrote a program that gave all the command computers a screen saver that said,

_Dear SGC,_

_Fuck you. _

_Sincerely,_

_Rodney McKay_

After that, he disappeared again and we didn't hear anything about him for ages, until last March when we received an envelope with pictures of him and his bodyguard, and a letter. The letter told us what he was doing and revealed his addiction. Given the photographic evidence, we have no reason not to believe it's true."

"What now?"

"Well John, I know you want to be with Atlantis again, and Earth needs you stop the Wraith while they are still in the Pegasus galaxy. But there's a good chance you won't be able to bring the city back with you because of the power requirements. Would that be a problem?"

"No… _if _I were going. It's the same deal as when we went before."

"Of course we would also have to send more people with you, as good as you and McKay are you can't run the whole city by yourselves."

"Who else would go?"

"I've heard from several former expedition members that they would love to return to Atlantis, I'm sure you could have your pick."

"What about a leader? I don't really want that job." He was starting to give up on his feigned indifference.

"I thought that I would like to have my old job back. With Jack being gone—"

"Sam you can't do that. They need you here. Earth can't afford to lose McKay _and you. _ future of Earth depends on the expertise you have. After all haven't you saved the world like three times?"

"Four actually…"

That brought a laugh and broke the tension.

"Look I am a billionaire with thousands of people depending on me for jobs. I don't know if I can abandon my responsibilities here, as much as my heart wants to."

"Don't you have someone you can trust to run the company?"

"Not really."

"As callous as this may seem John, those thousands of people won't have jobs, or money, or_ life_, if we can't stop the Wraith."

She had a point, but he wasn't just going to leave with so many things left undone.

"Okay, say I agree to this when would I have to leave?"

"With Wraith hyperdrive technology and the possibility they may be able to recreate the wormhole that the other hive used… you need to leave immediately."

He knew she was right but he just couldn't get his head around it. He was out of practice and soft, the thought of going back out there thrilled him but it also scared the hell out of him. He couldn't process this now.

_God I am exhausted. I can't even think anymore._

"Tell you what let me sleep on it."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Here's an update.

Disclaimer: Not Mine

If I don't start getting more reviews I don't think I'm going to finish this. *sigh*

* * *

Rodney Mc Kay had nightmares for years; the dreams often kept him too terrified to sleep. He couldn't sleep these days either, only it wasn't nightmares, it was beautiful, and happy dreams that filled him with agony, exposing the raw suppurating wound that used to contain the best of him, his heart. It was those dreams that started him on the road to addiction.

Nothing he took worked, he tried every drug he could find to help him sleep deeply enough, that the memories wouldn't plague him.

Being on the fringes and having to live on the street acquainted him with numerous low level dealers who carried plenty of benzos and sleep medication in their inventory. None of them worked, finally, one of these junkie dealers said to him, "Hey man you ever try smack? Man when I'm on the nod I sleep like a baby, a fucking _high _baby, Hahahahaaa."

This creature before him was repugnant but useful, so Rodney asked him, "Did you dream? You know when you were on the heroin?"

"Nahhh man you're just gone…"

It turned out later that the dealer was lying to close the deal. For the dreams on narcotics have been known to be quite vivid, and somewhere inside his corrupted mind he knew that, he had plenty of morphine during his time on Atlantis, and it nearly always gave him happy but lurid dreams.

"You interested?"

Rodney's heart fluttered at the thought of shooting up heroin, he could beat people up and even murder them without compunction, but taking illicit drugs gave him pangs of remorse. The incongruity was not lost on him as he considered his options.

_Why the hell not? My life is shit anyway. I'd like to feel something good even if it's artificial, even if it could take over my life, even if it kills me._

"Yeah I'm interested." Rodney didn't miss the wicked gleam in the guys eye, but he just didn't care.

_Fuck you and your Spidey sense John Sheppard._

"So how do you do it?" He asked as he scrutinized the small balloon of white powder.

The dealer was all too happy to teach him, he showed him his spoon and cooked some of Rodney's newly purchased heroin.

"First you gotta cook it…"

Then he melted it through the spoon with the flame from his lighter. When he was done, he asked Rodney for the syringe.

Rodney handed the clean, needle exchange, needle to the man and watched as the dealer pulled the plunger back, filling the small syringe with the golden liquid. The scientist in Rodney was fascinated and was already postulating ideas as to how he might improve the process.

They were sitting by the dumpster in the alley and the guy tied a tourniquet around Rodney's arm.

"Make a fist so I can find a good vein."

The phrase triggered a memory of Carson. It shook him, making him even more determined to go through with injecting the powerful drug.

"Now, you're probably going to puke, but when it kicks in… it is _so _worth it, especially the first time."

Rodney's heroin mentor neglected to tell him about chasing the dragon a lesson he would learn all by himself.

"Okay you ready?"

"Yeah, do it."

The needle didn't hurt but the tourniquet did, he sighed when the man removed it.

Just as the dealer had said Rodney threw up, and he felt horrible this lasted for about ten minutes then he began to feel a warmth coursing through him, a sensation of intense pleasure not unlike an orgasm. Eventually the orgasmic rush he first felt faded into the most serene and comforting feeling he'd ever had. He was slumped down next to a filthy dumpster lying there in a state of bliss. The world seemed far away and he didn't care about anyone or anything. This wonder drug relieved the constant ache in his soul, the emptiness tempered with rage. He could separate himself from the tragedy his life was, he could forget how he missed the people who abandoned him. He could step away from physics and science with ease. Heroin was his new best friend, and he would do _anything_ to get it.

McKay, reasoned the best way to keep his supply constant was to become the supplier. With each fix, he was sliding further into degradation. He now did things he could not justify as being moral or about justice. He was losing more and more of himself. The tiny fragments of the old Rodney, of Atlantis' Rodney, were disappearing with each new act of brutality he used to get more and more leverage, in the community of drug dealers. His street cred grew, and finally one of the most infamous Mexican cartels invited him to their table.

* * *

Two huge men swept him for bugs and transmitters as he entered the hacienda*. It gave Rodney some amusement that this _hacienda_ was in Malibu.

The goons brought him into the house and walked him back to the room the boss waited in. The room was large and airy filled with windows that faced the Pacific. There the leader of an entire drug cartel sat, at a huge farm table, surrounded by giant men with side arms. By all rights, Rodney should have been nervous. He wasn't. The most he could muster emotionally was mild interest. He was very calm, and the boss noticed his cool manner.

"Dr. McKay, please sit down." The request was a command.

He sauntered over to the table and sat in the chair, locking his eyes with the elegant and impeccably dressed man in front of him. Not exactly what he imagined, but when was his imagination ever right?

"For future reference, just call me Doc."

He smiled a toothy, shark like smile.

"Very well then, You may call me Jefe*. Shall we get down to business?"

"Give me your proposal."

"We want you to be our key distributor in LA. Your profit margin would be 30%."

This was the big time he was now a serious player. Nevertheless, something bothered him. He questioned the motives behind this offer.

"Jefe, why are you choosing me for such an important job? The territory of LA is very lucrative and there is a lot of competition, not to mention the DEA and the cops on our asses all the time. I am new to this, and you don't really know me. So what gives?"

"I am not a fool Dr. McKay; you would be dead now, if I didn't find you useful and able to do this job. Your _meteoric _rise up the food chain attracted many people's attention. Unbeknownst to you I have protected you from my rivals, they wanted you neutralized."

"Thanks but I can take care of myself."

"Yes I know you have managed to stay alive with virtually no help, no muscle, as it were. Quite impressive. One would not expect such a highly regarded astrophysicist would have such skills."

_The man is trying to rattle me, it won't work. My face is plastered in every post office of this country, no big deal._

"What can I say? I'm a fast learner."

"I suppose that's possible given the size of your IQ."

"Yeah well these days I rely on the size of my balls."

A chuckle ran through the room, the minions found it funny, the jefe not so much.

"I see."

"Any more questions?"

"Yes I want to know how it felt to torture and kill the men who brutalized and murdered your wife?"

He should have been shocked but he wasn't. He answered automatically.

"Liberating."

"That is an interesting word choice. Please explain what you mean."

_What the fuck? Is this guy a shrink? I'm about to turn him down just for being a pain in the ass._

"After I recovered physically and buried what was left of my wife's body, my despondency turned to rage, it gave me purpose and direction. It fueled my relentless pursuit of those bastards, and the hours of some very creative torture, I inflicted on each one. However, I found that after I killed one of them my burning need dissipated and was replaced by complete and utter apathy. I do what I want now. I am no longer consumed by passion of any kind, and I find that rather liberating. I can easily beat or kill whomever I deem deserving, with not one shadow of doubt. I have absolute clarity and absolutely no ambition. I do what I do because it is _necessary_ and that is all. Of course if I happen to enjoy my work along the way, all the better."

"And how does your addiction to heroin play into this?"

_Smart and well informed. I'll give you that, El Jefe._

"I can see where that would concern you, but you may wish to consider it a plus, just as you find me being on the FBI's most wanted list advantageous. I will never do anything to interrupt my access to the drug, and by that same token I have no wish to screw up and get arrested."

"I can see your logic, but it is a concern. You are an interesting man Dr. McKay, and I think I will enjoy doing business with you."

_He's never gonna call me Doc._

"Just one more thing, Jefe… I won't take anything less than 40%."

The man laughed a genuine laugh.

"I see what you mean about your balls Dr. McKay… I find that number acceptable."

Rodney stood too, and the men shook hands on it.

* * *

Jefe* = boss

Hacienda*= an estate, or a plantation


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Here's a new chapter to with the edited version of the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own SGA

Hope you guys like the new version.

* * *

Rodney awoke to frigid water being thrown on him.

_The wakeup call here sucks…_

The battered physicist turned drug dealer, pushed himself up on all fours.

"You better not do that again." His voice was menacing.

"Or what Rodney? Or should I say _Doc_? As you can see, I have some very enthusiastic friends to help me. You, however, have no one."

The words hit him harder than he expected. Radek was saying the right things to cause Rodney pain. Rodney pushed down the twinge of sadness that seeped through his carefully constructed fortress of self-protection, and got to his feet slowly, so no one thought he was going after Radek.

"You mind telling me why the hell you've kidnapped me and hired these morons to beat the shit out of me?"

Radek found himself struggling to stay on the cold and heartless side of things. It was hard to see Rodney, to hear him and believe that he wasn't here. But, his Rodney was dead and gone, and probably would never be resurrected.

_I want to hate you so badly but all I can see is the memories of my friend._

"No I don't mind at all. You are here to get clean and come back to the SGC."

"There is no way in hell I am going anywhere near the SGC. You'll have to kill me." He was serious he would rather die.

"If that's what it takes so be it." Radek couldn't hide the sad resignation in his voice.

"You still didn't answer me you Czech bastard. Why the goon squad?"

"I'm sure you'll find this flattering, but it is because you are considered a very dangerous man. It was impressed upon me that certain…techniques would be required to gain your cooperation. I of course disagreed because the man you are now, not only bears no resemblance to my friend but would kill me without hesitation. This _Doc _will not cooperate, he is like trapped animal."

Rodney felt sick. He chalked it up to withdrawal. Somewhere inside a small remnant of his true self remained, and was made ill by of his former friend's words. Rodney 2.0 pushed down the faint hint of sorrow and regret that sneaked in to his consciousness, and the cold bitterness of his present self returned.

He looked at Radek his face as still as stone, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"You were right. I would kill you without hesitation. You have me caged and no one will ever do that to me again… _No one_." The words were intense and threatening but spoken softly.

Radek was surprised that he wasn't angry or scared. He was sad and oddly a little hopeful. Rodney's words reminded him of how his friend became this treacherous creature, how all that was good in him was beat out of him with a baseball bat covered in his wife's blood.

"You don't scare me anymore Doc. Rodney is still in there and I intend to bring him back to life."

"That is a _big_ mistake Radek. I assure you the man you called your friend does _not _exist. He died five years ago; I buried him with Jennifer's body."

The charged atmosphere had distracted Radek, until now he hadn't notice Rodney's pallor, the trembling, the sweat that had soaked his scrubs.

"You are going through withdrawal."

Rodney didn't moan but he did grip his stomach trying to rub away the pain.

"No shit Sherlock. Get me some heroin Radek, or I will die and I'm sure the SGC doesn't want that."

"No is not true, you will only _feel _like dying. I cannot buy you heroin Doc. I will however have the doctor help you."

"I don't care what you do as long as you get me a fix."

Radek left but the goon squad stayed. Rodney was weaving back and forth fighting to keep himself upright.

When Radek returned Rodney could see a much taller figure behind the Czech. His vision was too blurry to make out anything other than a man in a lab coat. The figure came into the light.

"Bloody hell Radek, what did you do to him?"

"Is only bruises, we could not give drugs because of heroin, so they used force to subdue him.'

_Carson. He brought fucking Carson. _

Carson looked at the tough and wiry version of Rodney before him. He used his physician's eye to take in all the changes in his friend's appearance. There were the obvious bruises, and the signs of withdrawal, but it was what was underneath that gave him Rodney's story. The thinness made his muscles obvious and his face angular. The new scars and the track marks, were disturbing, but it was Rodney's eyes that were the most changed. His once expressive eyes were now cold and hard, there was no softness in Rodney at all anymore. It was true his Rodney was gone.

"Go away Carson I don't need you, I just need a fix and I'll be fine… I am a _functional _junkie." His tone was nasty and sarcastic.

"Sorry son you're not getting any heroin from me. But I will give you some methadone."

Rodney sneered. "_Methadone_? Just forget it, I'll go without."

Carson looked at the two enforcers and nodded. "Bring him."

Lumbering over to Rodney, they grabbed his arms dragging him out of the room and down the hall to the improvised infirmary. The room was complete with hospital bed and restraints. The goons threw him on the bed ignoring the weakened McKay's attempts at resistance. After Rodney was strapped down and in five point restraints, Carson walked over to him.

"I'm going to do some blood work, and a UA. After that we'll get you started on the methadone."

"Fuck you, you second rate copy. I don't care what you people do to me I am never going to quit trying to escape, and if I have to I'll kill you to do it, or die trying. I will never _choose_ to be with you."

Radek gasped at the horrible thing Rodney said to Carson. It made him want to let the black ops team beat Rodney some more.

Carson swallowed hard fighting back the tears threatening to spill down his face. The Scotsman reached out and placed his hand tenderly on Rodney's arm.

"That's okay Rodney, I will always love you. You are my friend. No matter what you do or say, I will always care about you. You'll never be able to change that… even if you kill me." Carson gave him one more searching look, turned, and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Here's another chapter, it's a long one. I'm a little disappointed in the number of reviews I am getting, it's discouraging. I'm sure it's due in part, to taking off the story and then revising it. If you guys aren't interested that's fine I'll just end it here.

Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN SGA

* * *

John didn't actually get much sleep. The combination of jetlag and the information Sam had given him combined to create the perfect scenario for insomnia. He invited Sam to stay in the bungalow's guest room; she agreed but went back to Prometheus to get some things. John assumed she'd just beamed back to the her room and went to bed. It was Saturday morning and he couldn't ignore the chirping birds, especially the sound of the ubiquitous leaf blower bird, indigenous to Southern California. This was supposed to be a luxury hotel, so why the hell were the gardeners leaf blowing at seven in the morning? He groaned at his defeat, morning had indeed arrived with him sans sleep.

_I'm never going to sleep until I make a decision. Until I find Rodney._

With a lot less agility than he had five years earlier he got up and was heading towards the intoxicating aroma of coffee coming from outside his room. That was when he noticed the clear dry cleaning bag from Cheyenne Mountain Dry Cleaners.

_What the hell?_

He opened the bag and found a pair of BDU's and a black t-shirt, along with a note impaled on the wire hanger. He couldn't help but smile.

_John,_

_I couldn't stand seeing you in those weird clothes. Here's some that suit you much better._

_Sam_

She knew what his answer would be. Hell he knew what his answer would be. It was the logistics of the whole thing that made it difficult. When he went to Atlantis, he literally had nothing to lose. Now, he had his father's company, and though he never wanted it, though he only intended to be there temporarily, he found he like it. It was his last connection to his Earthly family, and after he had lost his Atlantean one he needed it… he needed to be needed. Though he still saw Carson and Richard a few times a year, and sometimes Radek, none of them could get past what happened to Rodney and Jennifer. They all felt betrayed by the powers that be, and even though John knew there wasn't anything more he could have done, it didn't ease the sting of his failure to protect his best friend and his wife.

As he bent to pick up the plastic bag he saw a pair of military issue boots.

_The woman is relentless._

He threw on a faded t-shirt from his suitcase and walked out to the living area. Sam was there reading the paper and eating the pastries and drinking what promised to be incredibly good coffee from the smell of it. For a moment, he felt a pang of loneliness realizing how nice it was to wake up to someone, especially a beautiful someone.

"A young man named Thomas brought this, he said to tell you he is very sorry and wanted you to enjoy this complimentary breakfast. He seemed _quite_ disappointed to see me." She lifted her brow teasingly at him.

"What can I say, even the boys aren't immune to my charms." He is smile was wolfish, making them both laugh.

He walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee. He noticed her staring at him.

"What?"

"You're still in your pajamas and it's nearly eight. You really are living the life of Riley."

"Just so you know I'm at the age I don't do _anything_ before I have coffee."

"I hear you."

They were quiet the conversation to come loomed over them.

John sat down in the overstuffed chair across from her and sighed.

"Let's get this over with."

"Okay, works for me." She waited expectantly.

More silence.

"Why I don't I ask the question and you can answer yes or no, does that work for you?"

"Yeah."

"John would you like to return to active duty and save the planet?"

He laughed. "Who could pass up an offer like that?"

"So?"

"So yes."

"Great! I'm so happy you're on board."

"Wait. I have some conditions."

She sat back, not surprised.

"Shoot."

"First it is contingent on having Rodney back, I want autonomy from the IOA, I can't trust those bastards. I want you to find Ronon and Teyla and make them citizens. And last but _not_ least I want to fill the city with supplies from a list I will give you. If I have to use my own money that's fine. Oh, and one more thing; you have to find someone to run my father's company. Someone I can trust."

John had no idea but Sam had already begun doing the very things he was asking for, a week before she came to him. The IOA was out of favor under the current administration and lacked the political clout to object to John's stipulation. The supplies were already being loaded onto Atlantis, it was easy to know what they would need from past experience, John could add what he wanted to the cargo manifest. Ronon and Teyla had been found by Prometheus using their subcutaneous transmitters and though they were still angry, were anxiously awaiting the return of John and Atlantis.

She looked at John and grinned. "No problem."

"You already did it didn't you?"

"Yep."

"What about the CEO thing?"

"I was thinking General Landry may be a good candidate."

Landry was a good man, and John could trust him to do the right thing. Landry, disgusted with the way the government had handled Atlantis, retired immediately thereafter.

"Works for me… But will he go for it?"

She smiled a motherly smile. "John he's on Prometheus now being briefed on the ends and outs of your company, as well as current market conditions. He has a degree in finance from Wharton that he got using his GI bill when he retired. He is quite keen to do this, so yeah he'll go for it."

"Am I that predictable?"

"Well I have five years of mission reports and my own experience with you, so I have an advantage."

"That leaves just the crew and Rodney."

Sam pulled out a briefcase that was next to the couch. "Here are the some personnel files for you to look at, many of them you know but there are some new names as well. Why don't you take a look at them while I get a shower, so you can take me sightseeing? I never get to do anything fun these days and you… well you know."

"You are a hell of a woman Samantha Carter."

"Yes I am."

She began walking to the guest room hoping to he would be so preoccupied with the files he would forget about his first priority. Even she wasn't that lucky.

"Not so fast, Sam."

She groaned. "Damn, I almost made it."

"You know what I want. Tell me about Rodney."

She returned to the couch slightly defeated.

"It's not good."

* * *

While John slept in his bungalow,Carson watched Rodney as he slept; the familiarity juxtaposed with the horror of the situation tore at him. Radek was broken up by it too. There was a lot at stake for everyone, the whole world in fact. He heard someone come in the room at first thinking it was Radek didn't turn to look but the feminine scent told him it was Samantha. He smiled and rose to meet her.

"How is he?"

Carson sighed looking weary and sad whispered, "It's not good Sam. He is filled with bitterness and hatred. That's a much bigger problem than his heroin addiction."

She nodded a tear for all they had lost glistening on her cheek.

Carson pulled her to him and hugged her. "Don't worry love we'll get him back, if it's the last thing I do."

Rodney lay watching the scene through his eyelashes. He felt a combination of rage, hurt, and longing… it was making him crazy.

_It's just the damn withdrawal. This means nothing… they mean nothing._

Then why did his heart ache at seeing Carter cry? Without the beautiful numbing effect of heroin, he couldn't hide from the feelings these people engendered in him. It was worse than the physical pain of withdrawal; it served only to make him angrier. He had to be angry because anything else would destroy him, it was survival and as he once told Jefe, it was _necessary._

"How touching." He was snide, his disdain palpable.

"Hello Rodney." She walked over to him, Carson gave her a look of warning.

"Carter, come to enjoy the show? Or were you just here to see your _boyfriend _the clone?"

Carson flinched at the comment, and Rodney found no pleasure in the man's response.

"No I came to talk and see if you were alright."

He laughed derisively. "Alright? You can't be serious, I have been kidnapped, tortured, and put in five point restraints. That's the shitty day trifecta. But then again what else can I expect from my _friends_?"

She visibly winced at his accusation. There was so much truth in his words she couldn't even muster an attempt at denying them.

"You're right, and I'm sorry. However, we didn't have the time to do this any other way. We got lucky with your overdose. When your…_associate_ brought you to the hospital and they ran your fingerprints, we had to take the opportunity before the feds got you, or you went into hiding again."

"How did Radek find me? Oh let me guess, that nice doctor put a tracking device on me somewhere?"

"Yes, while you were unconscious he put one under your skin near your track marks so you wouldn't notice it."

"Very clever, you know of course I am going to escape. And as I told sheepherder 2.0, I will kill any of you to do it."

Her gaze hardened. "You can try McKay, but you'll never succeed if it means keeping you drugged to the gills and keeping you under lock and key with Ronon _and _ Teal'c we'll do it."

"Ahhh yes, I suppose you will. You better never let your guard down though, and frankly what use will I be to you in such a state.?"

She softened and gave him a gentle smile. "We would have you, and that would make it all worth it, just to have our friend back."

"You are such a fucking _liar_!" The rage and the force of his anger startled her.

She didn't take the bait. "I am sorry you feel that way Rodney. Nevertheless whichever way this goes you are going back to Atlantis… back to Pegasus."

He couldn't hide the surprise and the fleeting micro expression of hope that was on his face, before it returned to disgust. They saw it, and gained more ground in the cause to save Rodney.

"Beckett quit standing there like the moron you are and bring me my evening dose of that liquid crap. Carter _you_ get the fuck out!"

For some reason his pride wouldn't allow her to see him get his junkie fix.

She rose to leave but bent down and kissed his forehead right under the strap holding his head down. "I'm glad you're here," She whispered.

He was too shocked to respond. He just stared at her retreating form.

"I'll be back tomorrow, and I'll probably be bringing …"

Carson nodded; he knew exactly whom she meant.

"What? What's she bringing?"

Carson said, "Here's your night time meds, I raised your dose some, it should help make you feel better. Methadone has a very long half life and a cumulative effect so in another day or so you should be start to feel more normal, and then we can start to work on getting you to a maintenance dose."

"It's not a what, is it? It's a… _who_."

Suddenly he was consumed by a dizzying mixture of fear, shame , and desire.

_John… their bringing John…_

Carson could see the recognition on Rodney's face and shook his head to confirm his suspicions.

_Oh fuck, I don't know if I can handle this… They're going to break me._

"It won't work. I don't give a shit if he comes here, it won't matter. I'll still hate you."

Carson walked over again, patted Rodney's arm, and then squeezed his shoulder. "I think I'll sit with you awhile, and we can talk."

"I've got nothing to say, just leave me alone Carson."

_Dammit, I used his name…_

"No, I guess not. I however have a lot to say."

Rodney closed his eyes to tune him out. If his arms weren't restrained he would be crossing them defiantly.

He sat down and put his hand on Rodney's, who promptly made a fist, but his wrist was still in the padded leather cuffs and could not escape the tender touch of Carson's hand.

_He always was such a girl._

Rodney found himself curious to hear what the Scotsman had to say, though he would never reveal his interest. His eyes remained closed the entire time Carson spoke.

"I want to tell you how desperately sorry I am for what happened to you, and frankly if you hadn't have beat us to it, all of us would have killed the bastards who did this to you.

You forget, but we all loved Jennifer, not _just _because you loved her, but because of who she was. She was a sister to us. Every one of your friends cried for weeks for you and Jennifer, it killed something inside us all. So much so, we began to find it painful to see one another, especially when you disappeared.

I know you feel like we let you down, that we abandoned you. I can't blame you, I think we did too. All of us do. Despite the fact we were powerless we will never get over our failure just as you won't.

Nevertheless Rodney, as much guilt and shame we feel, we love you even more, and have been searching for you for five years, and we will never leave you again. You don't have to be alone anymore. We don't expect you to love us in return, we want nothing but for you to get better, and to be able to live without the fear of imprisonment and addiction. We will never give up on you. Now you have a choice, as you know we are all stubborn as hell and we do anything for each other, we will never give up on you. You can both fight us and hate us, or you can let us love you. It's up to you. Regardless, you are stuck with us."

Rodney felt himself trembling with the effort of controlling his traitorous emotions. He knew Carson could see him struggling.

"Ah you're cold lad; let me get you another blanket."

He covered Rodney up and literally tucked him in.

"There that's better, you get some sleep now, I'll leave this light on. If you need anything just call, I'm only a room away. Good night Rodney, I'm glad you're here, I missed you."

He turned the overhead light off and closed the door. The small nightlight was just enough to keep Rodney from becoming disoriented and the methadone was working to ease his anxiety, but he found himself falling apart.

Tears came unwanted and unbidden coursing down his face soaking his shirt. He bit his lip until it bled to keep from sobbing, but he couldn't hold it back any longer when he took a deep breath the dam broke.

_Damn you! Damn you all to hell! Why? Why'd you have to bring me here ! Why did you have to talk about Jennifer?... _

"Why'd y-you h-have to fucking _love _me? You bastards!" he said aloud.

Out in the hall Radek, Carson and Sam cried with him, and did all they could not to rush in to him and hold their shattered friend. They knew it was too soon, that it would only hurt his pride and anger him, if they acknowledged his tears in any way. He was like a wild mustang; he had to come on his own. He had to be gentled, for he was already broken.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here's a new chapter. Thanks to all my readers and especially my reviewers.

Disclaimer: I do not own SGA but I think since MGM doesn't want them anymore we should get to have them.

Please give me your words of wisdom, be they gentle and kind or make me lose my mind.

* * *

"Wait, let me eat first. I have a feeling I'm going to lose my appetite."

Sam nodded and passed the croissants to him.

"I have to say these are almost as good as the ones in Paris." She licked the gourmet jam from the corner of her mouth.

John smiled; Sam was such a refreshing woman to be around, she ate what she wanted, she wasn't high maintenance, and she could out shoot and out fight most guys. All that packed into a beautiful figure and face, with an amazing brain, made her the ideal woman.

_Jack was a lucky man, it's such a shame, they really deserved better._

Thinking about Jack and Sam got him thinking about Elizabeth, which in turn made him think about Rodney and Jennifer. His appetite disappeared with the firing of that synapse.

"You know what, never mind. Go ahead and tell me now."He pushed the basket of croissants away from him and leaned back in the chair.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He sounded so tired.

"What I'm going to tell you may make you a little…"

"What? Make me a little what?" John was beginning to get impatient.

Sam sighed. "I think you might be a little angry, that's all."

"Look I promise not to lose it, now please, finish."

There was no easing into this. "We have Rodney, have had him for two days."

"What! You've had him for _two days_? And you're just now telling me? What the hell Sam?" He got up and went back to his room.

"John, come on don't be like that…" She got up and tapped lightly on his door.

"John, can I come in?"

"No."

"John, please."

"Just give me a second would you?"

She heard shuffling, she was about to knock again when he yanked the door open and they were face to face. He looked at her with a furrowed brow, staring into her sky blue eyes, and then he smiled. A huge grin, filled with mischief and charm. "What are you waiting for we have to go see my best friend."

Sam stood agape he was wearing the BDU's and the shirt and shoes she brought him. _He is gorgeous…_

"What are you staring at Colonel let's get out of here."

She blushed, "Uh John?"

"Yeah?"

"About that."

"About what?"

"I'm not a Colonel anymore."

"What? You retired?"

A storm cloud came over her face, she was angry.

"Why do men always assume a woman can't make a career in the military and make it to the top?"

_Uh-oh, I really stepped in it this time. If she didn't retire that means…_

John unconsciously straightened his shoulders, and saluted her.

"Lt. Colonel John Sheppard reporting for duty, _General _Carter!"

She wasn't mad anymore. "You do know you don't have to salute me, we are inside."

"Yes ma'am."

She punched him in the shoulder. "Cut it out John."

"Ow, _General_ that is conduct unbefitting an officer if I ever saw it. Are you sure you didn't retire?" His snarkiness brought a giggle to her.

"Seriously John, you only need to worry about my rank when I think you are wrong. Which fortunately for you isn't very often. Speaking of rank, you are now a full bird colonel." She loved the stunned expression on his face.

"But…"

"You may recall you were before the promotions board when you retired. What you don't know is that you were promoted. I bet you haven't even looked at your retirement pay."

"No it just goes into the same account my Atlantis pay went into. I haven't even checked it in five years."

"It's quite a nest egg by now I'm sure."

Sam blushed as she realized she and John were standing very close to one another in the doorway to his bedroom. She could feel the heat coming off him and he smelt wonderful.

_Knock it off Samantha! Sure, he's gorgeous, but come on._

"Okay, umm yeah, let's go see Rodney." John shifted away from her blazing blue gaze.

"Yes, let's do that. I'll have Prometheus beam us up."

"No, I want to go shopping first."

She looked at him puzzled. "Okay… but, why?"

"I have gifts I want to bring him." He grinned like a schoolboy.

So they did, they went shopping in Beverly Hills in a limo that the hotel hired for them. They went to the shops the concierge recommended for the items on John's list.

Sam and John were a strange pair, as they walked around Rodeo Drive in their BDU's and Government Issue shoes. Some of the treatment they received was very reminiscent of Pretty Woman, but for the most part everyone was remarkably gracious and even offered their appreciation for the duo's service to the country.

After a few hours of shopping John said, "We should eat."

"Yes, I'm starving. What do you feel like?"

John spotted a familiar yellow sign and smiled. "You know what, let's get something to go and bring it to McKay."

Sam paused looking a bit disconcerted.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that we should bring something for Carson and Radek too."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Great, come on."

They walked into the California Pizza Kitchen their senses assaulted by the savory scents of grilled chicken, garlic and roasted vegetables. By the time they were ready to order, they were starving.

John ordered six pizzas to go, and they ate bread sticks while they waited.

"This is going to be so good." Sam said.

"I know. Do you think Rodney will like the stuff I got him?"

Sam looked down thoughtfully hoping to find the words to tell John just how bad things were with his best friend.

"John I know the old Rodney would love it all, but this Rodney? I'm not so sure."

"Oh Sam, don't let him fool you. He's still our Rodney, he's just… a little lost."

"John, you don't know what he's become. The things he's done."

John looked at her and grabbed her hand. "Sam, I have a pretty good idea. You seem to forget I was Special Forces, I know what Rodney has had to do to get where he is. He needs me… he needs _us _to forgive him, and to make it not the thing that defines him."

She looked at him and nodded, pulling her hand back.

The pizzas were ready and with the help of the chauffer and the cashier, they loaded them into the car. They rode back to the bungalow in silence.

* * *

Carson walked into find Rodney staring at the ceiling, tight lipped and tense.

"Good morning Rodney. Time for your morning dose, do you think you might like to try eating something?"

Rodney ignored him.

"I tell you what lad; I think we can remove this head strap and your leg restraints. Does that sound good?"

Rodney turned his eyes to Carson, who stood in his periphery.

"I don't care."

This was a different creature than the angry violent one from before. Rodney was depressed and apathetic, no fight left in him. It tore at Carson's heart.

"Och, you know that's not true, Rodney. You're just tired."

Rodney was tired but he wasn't apathetic. It was an act. He was still vigorously plotting his escape. The fact that John was coming, sped his timeline up, John was the only one who could stop him and he knew it.

Carson bent over and undid the head strap, allowing Rodney's head free movement. He began to undo the wrist cuffs when one of the guards with him said, "I wouldn't do that sir."

"Why not? He can't get out of here with all of us watching."

"Sir, I assure you he can, and he would."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because sir, if it were me I would."

Carson blanched at the comparison. "Aye, that may be son, but this is Dr. Rodney McKay, he's no a soldier, he's a scientist."

Rodney hid the twinge of regret he was feeling at Carson's naiveté.

"Sir, he may be a scientist, but he is also a killer, and has had excellent military training. His kills of the men who murdered his wife were executed on an extremely professional level. This man is much more than a scientist, and much different than you remember him to be. He cannot be trusted. Even now I see it in his eyes; he would kill us all to escape."

Rodney should have been angry at being outed by the young man; instead, he felt compassion for Carson's innocent belief in him.

Carson looked at Rodney praying to find a sign that the young soldier was wrong. There was nothing but the glittering hardness in his friend's eyes, confirming his worst fears.

_I don't care Rodney. I won't give up on you._

"Tell you what son, I'll remove one of his arm restraints so he can eat, and then I'll put it back when he's finished. You stand there ready to take over if he does anything…hinky."

The young man sighed, showing his disapproval, but agreed anyway, and drew his weapon into the down and ready position and clicked the safety off.

"Now here you go Rodney. He gave him the methadone and then a sip of water.

"I thought you might like some J-ello. I brought blue it's your favorite."

"What am I six?"

"No, I just thought you should take it easy at first and J-ello seems a good place to start. I remember blue is your favorite. God knows you and Ronon fought over it all the time in the infirmary." Carson smiled lightly but Rodney knew he'd hurt him.

"Whatever, I'm tired of listening to you prattle on. Just leave it and I'll eat it later."

"No. If you want it you have to eat it now."

"Fine. Give it to me." Carson finished unlocking the cuff on Rodney's arm, placed the spoon in Rodney's right hand, and held the jello up for him to scoop it out. It was awkward and by the time he finished his scrubs were covered in flecks of blue jello.

"That's good lad. We'll see about getting you a bath later. Maybe after lunch?"

A bath sounded wonderful to Rodney, as well as the prospect of walking around, and peeing without a catheter. He nodded encouragingly to Carson, "Yeah a bath sounds great Carson."

The big Scotsman grinned, "Aye, I'm sure it does lad. This way you can look nice for John and Sam when they get here."

He felt a surge of jealousy to hear their names together.

"Whatever, just let me sleep okay."

"Sure Rodney, you get some rest. I think this is going to be a big day." He patted his arm affectionately and re-buckled his wrist but left his head strap undone. Carson turned and gave the young guard a knowing look and shut the door.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Here's Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own SGA

Read. Review. Whatever.

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Carson asked John.

"What's he like? He's Rodney how different can he be, really?"

"Och, lad you have no idea. Physically he's much thinner, and muscular in a rangy sort of way, his hair is really short, almost shaved really, he has tattoos on his arms, sleeves I think they're called. Emotionally he's as hard as his outside appearance. He hates us, thinks we abandoned him and Jennifer."

"We did."

No one said anything.

"Look Carson you just follow me in there with the presents and get out, I'll handle it from there."

Carson nodded.

"Be careful John."

Radek just looked at him hopefully.

"Okay let's go."

* * *

Rodney could hear them talking. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could hear their voices. He could hear John.

_Why'd it have to be now? This is when I start trembling start sweating. When the craving gets the worst… Doesn't matter, he doesn't matter. Fuck them all, I'm getting out of here… Whatever it takes._

John barged in larger than life dressed in his BDU's and Black t-shirt, it threw Rodney he wasn't expecting that, it triggered in him feelings and memories he wanted nothing to do with.

"McKay, what the hell are you doing in bed? Get your lazy ass up we have presents!"

Rodney almost smiled at Sheppard the room flashed back and forth from the Atlantis infirmary to the makeshift one he was hidden in now. This was a damn confusing sensation, Rodney's emotions were fragmented little shards that wouldn't fit in either reality.

"Hello Sheppard, what brings you to LA? Slumming?"

_I knew he'd make some comment about the money. I know you Rodney, whatever incarnation you happen to be in, I will always know you._

"Yeah you know had some friends who said 'come out to the coast will have some laughs its great…' So here I am."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't come in here and be all charming, flashing your damn crooked smile, and quoting Jon McClain to me. I know you John Sheppard, I can see through your bullshit."

"Yeah, well I can see through yours too."

"Oh what bullshit would that be?"

"The bullshit of your new persona… The tats are cool and scary, I even buy the dangerous thing, but you are still Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay, smartest man in two galaxies and my best friend."

Rodney fought the hitch in his breath at John's words. _He still thinks I'm his best friend? I don't know whether to feel happy he feels that way or sad that he's so damn pathetic._

"I'm afraid this is no persona John, what you see is what you get. Trust me when I say you would be wise to take me at face value."

The words were cold, and the threat echoed off the cinder block walls.

"McKay I learned a long time ago _never_ to take you at face value."

John walked over and began unlocking the straps around Rodney's ankles, and then his wrists. As soon as Rodney's arm was free, he belted John across the jaw.

John laughed, "You still hit like a girl McKay." He spat the blood from his now busted lip onto the floor.

"Is that all you got? Guess your new muscles are for show."

"Sheppard, you might not want to test my patience."

"What? You barely even touched me; you couldn't hurt a fly _Doc._"

That did it, hearing John call him by that name was so wrong, something snapped and he became enraged and started beating John in a frenzy.

Rodney had skills and was more in practice than John, but he would never be able to best the hard wired combat skills and the panther like grace of John Sheppard.

As the fight escalated Carson couldn't stand it anymore and opened the door.

"Bloody hell, what are you doing John?"

"Get OUT!!!" Both the men responded, Carson shook his head and walked out.

"Is that it _Doc?_ I thought you were scary?"

Rodney was heaving with effort; he still hadn't fully recuperated from his overdose and subsequent withdrawal. Nevertheless, he was too pissed to notice; he picked up the chair beside the bed and raised it up to hit John with it.

John just stood there, calmly waiting for Rodney to bash his head in; the look on his face was sad, wistful. Rodney felt himself melt at that look, it was the same look John had when Elizabeth was taken by the Replicators, the same one he had at Carson 1.0's funeral, the same one he had at Jennifer's funeral. It was grief and resignation. The chair landed on the ground, and Rodney turned around and stomped back to the bed.

"You know what John Sheppard? FUCK YOU that's what. I'm not here to fulfill this self loathing, self sacrificing bullshit thing you have, by beating the shit out of you or killing you. You'll just have to be man enough to handle that on your own."

"What _Doc_ don't have the balls? Or maybe you don't have the tools?"

He pulled a five inch bladed knife from his boot and walked over to Rodney and gave it to him.

"Here, I understand you like knives. It's probably part of why the Mexicans like you so much."

The heft of the knife was oddly reassuring and sickening simultaneously. Without a thought his hand wrapped around the grip and tested the knife's balance. _Sweet…_

John was a little unnerved by the obvious skill Rodney had in handling the weapon, he flipped it and caught it repeatedly without a thought. It was fascinating, to see this predatory side to his friend, to see that Rodney too had that dark side, had fed his inner beast, had enjoyed it on a very primal level, just as John had.

"Keep it, it's yours."

Rodney laughed, "You couldn't have gotten it back from me anyway."

"Oh sure I could, your good, but you're no Ronon. Besides… who brings a knife to a gun fight?" With that, he pulled out his Berreta from the back of his waistband.

Rodney groaned, "Again with the movie quotes?" And with lightning speed he threw the knife towards John's head. John could feel the breeze it made as it passed him and went on to stick in the door.

"You missed."

"No I didn't."

John nodded.

"Ready for some presents?"

"Do I smell pizza?"

John grinned, "Maybe."

"Tell you what Sheppard, you get me some of that pizza and I promise to look at your stupid presents."

John walked over to the door, and looked at the knife. Its carbonized steel blade was buried into the metal door up to its hilt.

_Impressive, Ronon would be proud… Here it comes…_

John's brain exploded into a white flame of pain, followed by the cool darkness of unconsciousness. Rodney had hit him on the back of his head with the IV pole.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Beware of intensity. (I hope I pulled it off anyway.)

Disclaimer: I do not own SGA

Read it, Review it. You know you should do it!

* * *

Rodney felt a moment of shock at what he had just done; he had just bashed his best friend's head in with an IV pole. There was no alien entity residing in Rodney's brain he was just an evil bastard these days, and a long way from the heady days of his life on Atlantis. Rodney didn't want John Sheppard for his best friend anymore, and if it took beating the shit out of him to get the point across, Rodney was happy to do it.

"Sorry 'bout that _Colonel_," Rodney jeered, as he bent over and picked up John's Berretta.

John lay stunned on the floor, he wasn't unconscious exactly but he wasn't awake either. He watched Rodney through his eyelids; he saw the flicker of sadness on Rodney's face after the rage passed, and watched him bend over and pick up John's weapon. The soft sliding click of the safety being taken off broke John's heart. He waited for what came next.

* * *

Rodney's hands were trembling, but he knew it wasn't about the heroin, or even the adrenalin surging through his body. No, it was about this defining moment, the moment where he would be irretrievably lost to the gaping maw in his soul, or be on the cusp of redemption. He warred with himself, the line was impenetrable, once he crossed he could never return to whichever side he left. This was it, time to decide if he was _Doc_ or if he was Rodney.

_God Damn You! Why'd you have to come here with your stupid smile and all your fucking charm? Why are you so insufferably positive? I just wanted to be left alone, I'm not your friend, your friend is dead, and I'm all that's left… You can't love what's not here._

His body didn't agree with Rodney, because the urge to fall to his knees and pick John's battered body up and clutch it close to him was a matter of muscle memory and before he knew it he was on the floor pulling John to him, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh Jesus what have I done? I hurt you, and then I a-almost k-killed you."

_For fucks sake… What am I doing? This man has only ever loved me, and I would kill him just because I want to be left alone? If Jennifer saw me now…_

Rodney heard a sound. It was a sound he'd heard before, but it was a long time ago, _five_ years ago… It was the sound of him coming apart, of him sobbing, of him shattering. It was the sound of Rodney McKay disappearing, and _Doc's_ birth.

John opened his eyes and stared into the cold tearful blue of Rodney's eyes and said, "It's okay buddy, I don't mind."

Something clicked inside Rodney at John's soft words, it held the faint whiff of the rage that swept through him like a brushfire, the slightest spark set him ablaze. Only now the rage was focused at himself. The gun whipped up and John steeled himself for what he thought was coming and looked into Rodney's soul, calmly waiting for the bullet meant for him. Except Rodney didn't have the gun pointed at John. The Beretta was shoved into Rodney's mouth, the muzzle resting on his upper palate.

Before John could react, Carson and the muscle the SGC provided slammed the door open.

"OHMIGOD, John! Rodney what the hell did you do?"

John looked at Carson and gestured with his eyes to Rodney. Carson turned so white he was translucent, his knees buckled and he was on the floor his mouth wide with horror.

The Marine was down on one knee his P-90 aimed at Rodney.

"Put the weapon down Dr. McKay."

"Ngh,"

"Please Rodney don't do this." Carson begged his voice thick with churning emotion.

Sam and Radek looked through the doorway stricken. The sight of Rodney cradling a bleeding and injured John with a 9mm jammed in his mouth was the most twisted Pieta every conceived.

John reached up and tugged on Rodney's sleeve. "Please talk to me."

"Angh vo-vingh vis Jongh."*

"Okay, I get it, I even understand a little, but before you do would you just talk to me?"

Carson was immobilized by his grief only momentarily, watching his two best friends, his _brothers _in this sickening mockery of all they had shared filled him with a rage he'd never knew he was capable of feeling.

"Nae John, let haem do it! He's no our Rodney anyway!"

Carson's brogue was becoming closer to the Glaswegian one of his youth the more unhinged he became.

Rodney blinked back the tears that kept coming.

"Shut up Carson!" John hissed.

"Nae, I will no shut up John Sheppard! _My_ Rodney died five year ago, sae I dinna care if this evil bastard blows his drug addled brains oot!"

"Corporal Lewis! Take Dr. Beckett and get the hell out of here!"

"Respectfully, no, sir."

"I am a full bird colonel and you have the balls to defy a direct order?"

"Sir, I believe you to be in danger and injured, your judgment seems to be… _impaired _by your head wound. I cannot follow an order given in this circumstance."

John was pissed! "Carter tell this insubordinate punk to stand down!"

Sam didn't know what to do for a second, but nodded her head yes and said, "Corporal Lewis stand down."

"Yes, Ma'am, come with me Dr. Beckett."

The young man left grudgingly, he knew what a hero the Colonel was and hated leaving him in there with that psycho.

"Get yoor bloody hands off me!" Carson yanked his arm from the young man's grasp.

"Corporal leave him and join me in the hall please."

The corporal left with a sigh, never taking his eyes or his gun off Rodney.

"Carson, for my sake will you please leave?" John sighed.

"Nae! I willnae do it!"

"Then just sit there and shut up, I can't understand a damn thing you're saying anyway." John's fatigue couldn't hide his ire. He turned to Rodney and put his hand up to pull the gun down.

"Rodney, I can't understand _you_ either, with that thing in your mouth. Just take it out for now, and talk to me, please."

The gun came slowly down but Rodney's forefinger rested along the barrel ready to pull the trigger.

"Uhh you mind helping me sit up, this is a little… religious in its overtones."

Rodney nodded and pulled John up to a sitting position.

To his credit, John didn't puke or pass out from the lovely concussion Rodney had given him.

"Jesus McKay I'm back in the Air Force for half a day and I already have a concussion. It's got to be a record. Hell I'm not even in Pegasus. Guess I can't blame it on that damn galaxy after all."

John was talking in a soothing monotone, waiting for both Carson and Rodney to come down off their adrenalin-induced insanity.

Carson suddenly heard the words John had said. Somehow the word concussion got through to his enflamed mind, and he came back to being someone more recognizable.

"Colonel? Are you alright?" Carson sat clicking his penlight off and on repeatedly. Clearly he was still agitated.

"I'm okay Carson, it's only a concussion, probably only a level 2."

How sad was it John could diagnose and grade his own concussion?

"S'ry. S'ry John. So s'ry."

"Shh it's alright buddy. We're gonna help get you better, and then guess what? We're going back to Atlantis, back to Pegasus. Rodney we're going _home."_

John saw Rodney stiffen, gone was the slack-jawed grief, and the hardened chiseled face of contempt was back, and so was the gun. Only now, it was pointed at John again.

"I _knew it_! You son of bitch… That's what all _this_ was about? You _need _me to make your _precious_ city fly! "

Rodney was back to his feet and wound up like a viper ready to strike.

"Here's what we're going to do. Beckett stand up. Do it, or I'll shoot him."

There was no hesitation and Rodney's words were matter of fact and rang with truth. Carson knew that Rodney would shoot John and every fiber of his being cried out to run to him, to get him away from this changeling that took on his friends form. So Carson stood, what else could he do?

_Aye Carson you know what to do, are ye man enough son?_

"Good, now slowly move to the bed."

John moaned, "I don't suppose I could have the bed? Not feeling so good here."

"Sheppard, you don't f—''

SMACK ! John hit the ground, he was unconscious before he was even half way to the floor, his hands never moved to brace him and his head made a sickening thud on the polished concrete.

"John!" Carson ran to him.

"Get back Carson, leave him alone." Rodney's voice was shaking, he was seconds from puking himself he was late for his methadone dose.

"Fuck you McKay, I'm a_ real doctor_ and _friend _I'm no moving!"

"Yes, you will or I will shoot you."

"Gae ahead, shoot mae ya bastard! But, ahm no goin' anywherr."

Carson reached his hand to John's neck trying to find his pulse. He saw Rodney's bare feet come beside him and barrel of the gun pressed against his temple.

"No Carson… _fuck you_." Rodney's voice was cold, like the constant cold of a dark cavern underground, empty and devoid of life.

Carson just looked at Rodney with a phosphorescent hatred burning in his blue green eyes, and swung his big fist around nailing Rodney in the gut and knocking the wind out of him. This was no mother hen, this was the young man who fought in the alleys and pubs of Glasgow, reincarnated. Rodney dropped his arm in shock but not the gun, even as another huge fist connected with his jaw, sending showers of sparks through his vision.

Carson was like a freight train, pummeling Rodney as he had him jacked up against the hospital bed. Rodney barely had a second to defend himself, and for some reason he couldn't seem to drop the gun.

Sam, Radek, and even the Corporal stood in awe of raw fisted Scotsman beating Rodney to hell.

Carson began to tire as his rage began to ebb. He dropped his right hand just enough for Rodney to get in a good shot, and while his head reeled, he still had enough juice to tackle Rodney and shove him onto the bed. The two men struggled and a shot rang out.

As cliché as it sounds… the gun went off and the two men kept fighting unaware who was shot. Until Carson, started fumbling, suddenly uncoordinated, the big man fell back on his butt clutching his abdomen and breathing heavily. He looked down at the wound and the blood on his hand, and then at Rodney and said, "I'm sorry." Then without another word, he slumped to the floor and closed his eyes.

* * *

Angh vo-vingh vis Jongh= I'm doing this John.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I look forward to your letters.

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em … damn.

* * *

Before anyone could move, Rodney gripped the gun and held it up as a warning.

"I told you I would do anything. You should have listened to me Sam." Sam had rushed in and he now held the gun on her.

"Now, I'm going to walk out of here and no one is going to follow me or I'll shoot her too."

Rodney's hands were shaking, and he was going to be sick. He couldn't look at Carson, he would lose it if he did.

_I am so fucked up I just turned the nicest man in the universe into a screaming hate machine and then shot him. I wish I had died from that overdose, then I wouldn't have to be here destroying the last people who will ever care about me…. Oh shut up Mc Kay you sound like the biggest pussy, you warned the assholes and they didn't listen… it's on them._

"Rodney, you don't want to do this. If you walk out that door, it's out of my hands and the people who want you can have you. We're your last chance."

"Like I care what they do to me. Do you think I'm afraid of dying? I could care less. The only thing I want is for it to be on my terms. My terms don't include being your handy man on Atlantis and being sucked dry by the fucking Wraith. Now move it Carter I'm getting the hell out of here."

Sam looked at him, her face full of regret, "I'm sorry Rodney but that's not going to happen."

Suddenly a bolt of blue white energy hit him and he went down.

"Prometheus?"

"Yes General."

"I want you to lock on to Dr. McKay and beam him to the secure infirmary, I want two guards on him and no one is to open the force field under any circumstance."

"Beaming him now."

"Now I need you to beam Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett to the main infirmary and have medical teams ready, and then the rest of us to the conference room near the bridge."

"Just a moment."

There was a flash of light and Radek, Sam and the Marines were standing in the conference room.

Sam turned to the Marines, "I don't have to remind you that none of this is to be discussed, not even amongst you. Dismissed." They ambled out and headed to their quarters.

"That was awful Radek, why did we have to put him through that?"

"We had to know how far he would go, before we brought him here."

"I know but John and Carson? The look on John's face when Rodney hit him, and Carson he was so angry _I _was scared of him."

"Yes, was very disturbing day for us all."

"That's quite the understatement Radek."

"Yes, and we never got to eat the pizza."

Sam laughed and touched her comm. "Morgan?"

"Yes Ma'am. I want you to beam some guys down to get all of the stuff we left. Tell them there's a slice of pizza in it for them."

"Right away Ma'am." He sounded dejected.

"Morgan?"

"Yes Ma'am?"

"You can have some pizza too."

"Thank you Ma'am!"

"Shall we head to the infirmary?"Radek asked.

"In a moment, I need to catch my breath."

"Yes, is true my breath has run away as well."

* * *

John was floating in darkness it was a familiar sensation. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew he'd been here before. There was a hint of a memory lingering. Somewhere in the dark, a memory of laughing and happiness echoed in the distance. Something was wrong, a bad thing had happened. He couldn't remember it, it was out there in the light. He didn't want the light, he didn't want to know what the bad thing was.

"John? John you need to wake up now."

Pain filled John's head, as a beam of light, wielded by a monster, shattered his dark, velvety, peaceful world. The monster kept calling his name, the sound crashing against his battered skull, and pissing him off.

"Leave me alone!" He meant to yell but it came out as a weak whisper.

"Sorry John I can't do that, now wake up."

He was now just angry enough for his eyes to fly open and to attempt to sit up. Big mistake, his head felt like the shore at Mavericks when the forty footers hit. He was going to puke.

"Here, you shouldn't have sat up so quickly son." The doctor handed him an emesis basin that he promptly vomited in.

He groaned and looked at Carson with his still bloody shirt.

"He did it, he really fucking did it. I never thought he would, damn."

"Well technically it was an accident, we were fighting and… you know."

"Sorry about your shirt."

"No worries." He laughed. "You know I completely forgot what was going to happen when the gun went off. I was too angry and trying to beat some sense into Rodney. Then I remembered, it was a death scene for the ages I tell you John, I _know _I pulled it off."

John didn't have the heart or the head to smile at Carson's award winning performance. He knew what it all meant, he knew Rodney was pretty far gone, and that the chance of him coming back was more than slim.

"I want to see him."

"No lad you have a bad concussion, and that face plant didn't do your head any favors. You may have a subdural hematoma, and you're not going anywhere until I know for sure. Now just relax and we'll roll you over to the scanner."

The process of lifting him to the scanner was an exercise in how to keep the room from spinning and puking your guts out. All John could do was groan.

"Looks like you have a small bleed near the now cracked left temporal section of your skull. It's small and may resolve itself, we'll keep an eye on it. _You _my friend are not to move, you could make it much worse and then I'd have to shave off that pretty hair and drill burr holes in your head."

John was almost positive Carson was joking, but decided not to risk it.

"It's cruel you know."

"Aye lad I know, your first time back in space in five years and you're stuck in the bloody infirmary."

"No, not that… okay a little bit that, but I meant what we did to Rodney."

"If he were the old Rodney I would agree. But that creature in there is not our Rodney and we had to know if he really would kill us to escape. Speaking of the demon spawn, I need to give him his dose of methadone before he starts getting sick from withdrawal I don't want to have to deal with more vomit."

John heard the anger in Carson's voice and saw the sneer on his face, but he wasn't buying it. Despite the horrible things that were done and said today, John, ever the optimist, and believed with his whole heart they would find their way back to each other.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Here's an update

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As Carson walked to the dispensary to measure Rodney's dose of methadone, it occurred to him it might cause Rodney some trauma to see him alive and well.

_No matter he's tough as nails these days anyway._

Carson knew he was being a bastard and if he were honest, he would know that it was anger at himself that was driving his behavior, anger for failing his friend. He literally demonized the Rodney he saw now, in an effort to justify his bitterness. Though in his soul Carson saw through the evil Rodney coated himself in, and still recognized the fragile man he'd known for years.

_Everyone always expects me to be the nice guy, Mr. Forgiveness. Sometimes I just can't take it, being the grown up, being the voice of reason, always ready to lean on… I miss my friend. I can't stand the way he's behaving, what he's become. Still… I went too far… *sigh*… I have to make this right._

###################################################

Rodney awoke on a hard infirmary bed, he felt like crap and his chest ached. It was so cold in the sterile room he shivered. His muscles burned, and his head was pounding.

_Damn Zat gun... _

He scanned the room, there was one other bed, and he wasn't hooked up to anything, not even restraints. He saw a slight shimmer and heard the hum of an Asgaard drive.

_Prometheus, maybe Daedalus… Force field and an armed guard. By the looks of It, I am in the prisoner ward, well played Sam._

It occurred to Rodney that the whole scene on earth had been very hinky.

_Why would John give me a knife? And what the hell was he doing bringing a loaded gun into the room with me? Surely, John isn't that naïve to believe that I am anything but dangerous, and Sam, she would never let him be so stupid. No the whole thing was just… off._

###################################################

Samantha Carter was developing a headache of epic proportions, the past few days had been a roller coaster and she was tired. This whole thing was a disaster. It wasn't looking like Rodney was going to be receptive to them, Atlantis, or life in general. Sam found herself wishing she were just plain old Major Carter and able to let Jack make the hard decisions and come up with the harebrained schemes. But that was a lifetime ago and things in the Milky Way were a picnic compared to the Pegasus galaxy.

_After Carson gives McKay his methadone, I am going to appeal to his ego. Since that's the only thing about him that seems to be intact…_

Her stomach dropped to her feet at that thought. What was she thinking? Rodney was gone, there was no way around it, his soul had finally met its threshold of pain and exited the building, leaving an empty bitter husk of a man, the husk currently sitting in Prometheus's prison ward infirmary.

With a deep breath, a tug of her jacket, and a smoothing of her hair, General Samantha Carter put her emotions away and got back to the business of command. She could never again allow her heart to distract her from doing the right thing. She would distance herself from Rodney starting now.

###################################################

John's head still ached and he was nauseous as hell but he had to escape the infirmary before Carson came back. He had to see Rodney now; he couldn't let a stupid thing like a concussion stop him. What was a minor brain bleed compared to saving Atlantis? Saving Pegasus? Earth? Compared to saving his best friend? So with all the bravado of a much younger man, John Sheppard slid his legs off the side of his infirmary bed and then tried to get to his feet. His knees buckled slightly and he leaned onto the bed. When he stopped riding the tilt a whirl in his head, he slowly stood up. But, after two steps, he was puking from the vertigo and a nurse was admonishing him and forcing him back into bed.

As John gave into the fatigue the bout of vomiting brought on he thought, _Rodney, buddy, I'm gonna bring you home. I swear on my life…I swear on Atlantis._

###################################################

By the time Carson had measured the methadone into the small plastic cup and walked down the long corridor to the secure room, Rodney was lying in a pool of sweat and his body ached, he was sure he had a fever. It didn't matter if it was withdrawal, or an illness of some kind, the outcome was the same. Rodney was miserable.

"Open the shield lad."

The marine guarding him lowered the shield and pointed his zat gun at Rodney.

"Stand up, and place your hands on the wall, legs spread and your toes touching the wall."

Rodney stood shakily, his knees and legs trembling. He slumped against the wall his hands up. Black spots began filling his vision and his legs folded before the marine could get the handcuffs on him.

"Get up Dr. McKay. Get up, or I will stun you sir."

"I can't…"

"Sir, I repeat, stand up or I will stun you."

"What's all the commotion?"

Carson walked into the room to find Rodney lying on the floor, shaking and covered with sweat. The marine was seconds away from stunning him.

"What are you doing lad? Can't you see he's sick?"

He set the medicine cup down on the nightstand and crossed his arms in irritation.

"Sorry Dr. Beckett I'm under orders to keep him restrained at all times during your visits."

"Orders? From who?"

"General Carter sir."

"Well never mind that, he's not going anywhere just leave the room and raise the shield."

"But sir…"

"Go on with you son, I'll tell the General I made you do it."

The young man wavered a moment and walked out of the small two bed infirmary and raised the shield.

Carson felt his stomach clench at the state Rodney was in. Forgetting he was supposed to be dead, the doctor bent down to talk to Rodney.

"Rodney? Hey let's have a look at you."

Rodney turned his head, saw Carson looking at him, and backed away in fear and confusion.

"I'm sorry Carson, I didn't mean to k-kill y-you."

Carson grew more concerned by Rodney's delirium; this was more than withdrawal induced hallucinations. The pink spots on Rodney's ghostly face, the shivering; Rodney was spiking a fever.

"Rodney you have a fever, I need to see how bad it is. Just wait a minute and I'll take your temperature."

He walked over to the shield and called the infirmary with his earwig.

"This is Dr. Beckett, I need a med team down here in the infirmary, and bring monitors, IV equipment and anything else you can think of."

"Right away Dr. Beckett."

"Carson?" John's weary voice came over the comm. "What's wrong with Rodney?"

"Nothing John go back to sleep, and give that radio back."

" I'm coming down there."

"John Sheppard you better stay in that bed."

"What ? Sorry you're breaking up."

_Dammit John, you haven't changed a bit. Still as stubborn as ever._

"Rodney I need you to get back on the bed can you do that?"

Rodney was confused; things in his mind were muddled in time. He couldn't remember the correct sequence of events. One moment he was on Atlantis and happy, Carson still his friend, the next he was bitter and mean, and fist fighting with the doctor.

Carson hauled Rodney up and helped him onto the bed he was burning up.

"Okay now I need you to take deep a few breaths for me Rodney so I can listen to your lungs."

There was the unmistakable sound of crackling in Carson's ears.

_Oh damn Rodney you have pneumonia._

Rodney's eyes were glassy and he was very out of it.

"Okay, you need to lie down."

Carson raised the head of the bed and gently pushed his former friend down to rest on the now forty-five degree angled slope.

The duty nurse and a medical assistant came to the force field and let Dr. Beckett know they were there.

"Hello Cara, I'm afraid there's been a change of plans. We have to move him to the ICU in the main infirmary; Dr. Mc Kay is very ill and needs close monitoring. Please go back and prepare everything you think we might require for a bad case of pneumonia, including the respirator."

"We'll get right on it Dr. Beckett. Would you like help transporting him?"

"No Grace, I'll have the corporal help with that. Thank you though."

The women smiled at him sympathetically and walked away quickly ; both of the women had worked on Atlantis and knew Dr. Mc Kay quite well and even liked him. It was hard seeing the two friends on such opposite sides now.

"Corporal, I need your help transporting Dr. McKay to the ICU."

"I'm not sure I can do that sir."

"What do you mean son? This man is very sick and needs intensive care, now lower the shield and help me move him."

"Sir please, I have to ask General Carter first."

"Aye then hurry up and do it, he's becoming cyanotic and his fever is sky high."

Carson was fuming, he was in full physician mode, it allowed him to only see a patient not a traitorous friend.

"Captain Casey? This is Corporal Fielding, yes ma'am in the prisoner ward. Dr. Beckett says that the prisoner needs intensive care and must be moved to the ICU immediately. Yes ma'am, I'll tell him. Thank you ma'am."

Carson prepared himself for a fight, from the sound of things he would have to raise hell to get Rodney moved.

"Dr. Beckett, Captain Casey is relaying the message to Colonel Lorne and he will speak with General Carter, to get permission to move Dr. McKay."

"Oh for God's sake I should have asked her directly. Just a minute."

_How daft are you Beckett? _

Carson reached up and changed the frequency to the command staff channel.

"General Carter? Beckett here. Dr. Mc Kay is in critical condition and I need to move him ASAP... Yes I know he seemed fine on the planet, apparently he's picked up some sort of virulent pneumonia… I don't know, but he's got to be put on a respirator and soon… No, we haven't lost his airway, but that's where we're headed… Thank you. If you could have, the corporal help me… I'll see you there."

He began strapping the now unconscious Rodney into the hospital bed using the soft cuff restraints. The cessation of the force field's hum, told Carson they were ready to go.

"Okay lad now you take the head of the bed and I'll pull the bed out of the room, when we get out into the hall we'll switch so I can steer and you can help keep the bed from banging into walls and open the transporter doors for me."

The whole process took less than ten minutes but by the time they reached the ICU Rodney had deteriorated. Rodney's lips were turning blue and he was struggling to breathe. Carson called ahead, had everything prepared, and the code team on alert. When the trio arrived, the room was tense with anticipation of the impending crisis, not helped by the stubborn Colonel Sheppard asking them every five minutes what was wrong and refusing to stay in bed.

"We need him under the scanner now and put him on a hundred percent oxygen until we can get him intubated."

The team flew into action and Carson ordered labs and ice packs for Rodney, hoping to get his temperature down before he fried his brain or began having febrile seizures.

"What the hell is going on Carson?"

"Not now John! Get your bony carcass out of my way and back into your bed."

John stared at the Scotsman in disbelief for a moment and then did as he was told. Just as John was settled back in his hospital bed, Samantha Carter entered the room.

"What's going on John?"

"I'm not sure but from what I gather it's not good. Whatever you do don't ask Carson, he'll bite your head off."

"Okay, thanks. How are you feeling?"

"Oh you know typical grade three concussion."

Sam laughed, "No I don't know really. It seems like you guys are always hitting your heads on missions, I've only had two mild concussions in all my career. It must be a boy thing."

"Boy? I'm sure you meant to say _man _thing."

They both chuckled, but their good natured banter wasn't enough to sustain the mood. They grew silent and listened to the ominous sounds of the medical teams trying to keep Rodney alive and breathing.

" The scan can wait we have to keep that airway! Get me the scope!"

John closed his eyes and tried to avoid seeing the image of Carson placing the scope in Rodney's dusky blue mouth.

Beckett had to try several times to get the tube placed, but Rodney was soon on the vent and his skin was pinking up. However, when Cara took his vitals she found his temperature was a dangerous 104.5, so they cut off Rodney's scrubs and placed ice packs in his armpits on his stomach behind his knees and his head and under his neck. They gave him an anti pyretic and Rodney's temperature began to fall, but he was shivering uncontrollably, and still unconscious.

Radek walked in with Colonel Lorne to see Rodney on the respirator and his fever-wracked body. They shared the horror of the scene with Sam and John.

"It's hard to be angry at him when he's like this. Makes you think it's the way it used to be. Him sick and us keeping vigil." Radek whispered.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Lorne replied.

The feminine voice of Samantha Carter said, "It's so confusing. I have trouble reconciling the two versions of Rodney."

"Well I _can't_ be pissed at Mc Kay knowing what he's been through. Hell I would have done worse in his circumstances."

No one disagreed with John, it was well understood that John Sheppard had some very dark places in his soul and would never tolerate someone torturing and murdering the woman he loved. Very heavy consequences would be exacted and with extreme prejudice, perhaps consequences even more violent and disturbing than the ones chosen by Rodney.

###################################################

Once Rodney was stable, Carson walked over to waiting group.

"Okay, before you bombard me with questions let me tell you what I know. Rodney has some form of pneumonia, his scans show a large portion of both lungs with infiltrates, he's running a high fever and is currently unconscious. I am running blood work and cultures and have put him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic; I was unable to give him his methadone orally but I have given him some in his IV. If he weren't an addict I would stop all narcotics because I believe his respitory function has been suppressed by them, and played a role in this illness."

"Man when it rains it pours." Lorne said.

John snorted and said, "Hell, and we aren't even to Pegasus yet."

They all gave a wan smile to that.

"Aye, he's a mess alright."

Sam went back to being in charge and began giving orders.

"I need him to remain under restraints Carson. Lorne send in your best guys and have them on four hour shifts two at a time."

"Come on Radek, we need to discuss the power output equations you sent me."

The two scientists left, and were soon followed by Colonel Lorne. Carson and John were alone in distracted silence

"Are you okay Carson?"

"No, not really. I am so damn angry and confused; I'm all over the place. Rodney being sick is a blessing in disguise; I can see him as patient for now and keep my anger in check."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"It depends on what's causing this infection."

"What do you mean?"

"Well John given his recent history of IV drug use and God knows what else; he could be suffering from HIV, TB or any number of immunological issues. He was always prone to being overwhelmed by infection before, the past five years of risky behavior gives this situation the potential to be more than we can handle."

_HIV? TB? More than he can handle? What the hell… NO I refuse to go there. I am not giving up on Rodney… in any way._

"He's going to be fine Carson, you just take care of his body and I'll deal with the rest. If it's the last thing he, or I do, Rodney will come back to us."

Carson gave John a searching look.

_I wish I had his confidence. I wish I hadn't gone off the deep end. I told him to kill himself… I said I hated him… I let him think he shot me. What the hell is wrong with me?... Thank God, I can still behave like a doctor..._

"I sure hope so John. Now get your ass in the bed and stay there, or you'll be here an extra day."

John grinned, "That's more like it. That's the Carson I'm used to."

"You mean patient and kind?"

"No grumpy and bossy!"


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Here's an update. Have I mentioned I hate recital season? Well I do.

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Rodney lay caught in feverish dreams. Sometimes he was back in Pegasus fighting the wraith, haunting memories of friends he lost and those he made. Other times he was back in LA doing his thing, floating along on a heroin cloud, making money hand over fist living large and dangerous but all alone. He was confused about what was real, about who he was, everything was jumbled together feelings and images. He felt betrayal, and friendship, love and unimaginable grief and rage and hope. As his fever burned through his body he suffered the constant barrage of images in his mind.

He began to beg God to make it stop, he begged and plead tears streaming down his face, but God didn't answer he merely looked down from his white haloed face and said, "Shhhh Rodney lad, it'll be all right." Rodney didn't believe God. Instead he sank into the oblivion his body offered. It's black emptiness safe from the memories, safe from the pain. Cool darkness embraced him and his mind fell silent.

###################################################

"Why is he like this? I thought you said he had pneumonia?"

"Aye, he does Colonel. But now he has septicemia as well and he is unconscious."

"What is his prognosis?" Sam asked.

"Well I had to put him on the vent, he needs his lungs drained and I am putting him on dialysis; if these antibiotics don't work…eventually he'll die."

Radek got up from the table and stalked out. John jumped up to join him, looking at Carson John said, "Carson you have to save him, there is no other option. Without Rodney we're all dead," and the Colonel walked out.

"He's right you know. I'm good but I don't have the innate understanding Rodney does of the Ancient technology. He makes leaps that even leave me breathless." Sam said quietly.

Carson shook his head in agreement, but all he heard was his own inner voice.

_I have to save him, I have to make this right. He was my best friend and look what I have done to him. He was broken and I… God please don't die Rodney._

###################################################

"Colonel, wait!" John turned to face the owlish scientist.

"What is it Radek?"

"Colonel, I am sorry but as you say I can't take it anymore."

"Yeah I know what you mean."

"Rodney was pain in the ass but he was our pain in the ass."

" Don't worry we'll save him."

Radek stopped and looked at John in the eyes and said, "How? How do we save him from himself? How do we save him from heroin, from hate?"

"I don't know but God damn it I won't give up on him and don't you either!"

Radek nodded and turned on his heel leaving John in the hallway by himself.

John slumped into the wall suddenly overcome with emotion and the effects of his concussion, and felt a tear escape from his eye.

_I let you down buddy, but I'm here now and I won't let you go._

###################################################

Somewhere in the Pegasus Galaxy a Wraith scientist put the finishing touches on the worm hole drive he'd created. A cold smile spread across his blue face. _Now we shall see what the hunting grounds of the Milky Way have to offer… _

###################################################

Carson stood across the infirmary watching John as he struggled with his emotions. The fear was on his face, but there was anger in his eyes. John's hand held Rodney's in his. The hand was almost skeletal and was lost in John's grasp. Carson could hear the gentle murmur of John speaking but not what he was saying, though it wasn't hard to figure out.

##################################################

"Rodney come on you have to get better, I just found you. I can't lose you again."

John sighed and rested his forehead against the rail of Rodney's hospital bed. He was so tired, his head was pounding and the room was tilting in odd angles. He felt himself turn limp and start to slide out of the chair. But Carson caught him and walked him the three steps to his hospital bed and tucked him in.

"This brings back memories." Carson said.

"Yeah, it does."

The two were silent a moment.

"Head hurt?"

"It's not too bad."

"Okay, then let's give you something for the pain."

"No! I don't want to…"

"Shh John it's only a little ibuprofen."

John nodded, " 'Kay."

Carson shuffled through the rolling cabinet and produced a bottle of rust colored pills. He shook three out and handed them to John.

John took them and drank the water Carson gave him.

"There, that should help. You get some rest; Rodney will be fine I'll be here."

Neither man believed his words.

John looked at Carson his green eyes staring into the Scotsman.

"Carson, we owe him this chance. He gave us everything he had; now we have to give it back to him."

Carson looked at his feet self consciously "What do you mean exactly?"

"Jeez Carson don't be stupid."

Carson gave him an irritated look.

With a sigh John said, "I mean you have to forgive him Dammit!"

Carson stared sullenly at John for a moment before he said, "I know that! Dammit don't you think I know that? It's just, I miss him, this isn't _my_ Rodney!"

John stared in disbelief at what Carson had just said. _Is he serious? He can't be that oblivious._

"Carson… he could say the same about you."

It hung there between them like some kind of challenge. Carson didn't take the bait. He gave John one last aggravated look and walked away.

_I need both of you… Get it together Carson._

John was asleep in seconds.


End file.
